


Stolen

by AlexNow



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Way Household as Rich Bastards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexNow/pseuds/AlexNow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Gerard staggers towards the door while gripping on everything he could find around him to stop from falling, once even grabbing a bush full of thorns.  Basically, he feels like shit. His eyes feel heavy, his legs are drained of strength, his head is dizzy and he can’t remember shit of what the hell happened tonight. Just about going to a party, drinking cups and cups of spiked punch and then laughing over stupid things along with his friends.</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">or</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">Gerard breaks Frank's heart and doesn't even know about it.</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Frerard fic.

Gerard staggers towards the door while gripping on everything he could find around him to stop from falling, once even grabbing a bush full of thorns. Basically, he feels like shit. His eyes feel heavy, his legs are drained of strength, his head is dizzy and he can’t remember shit of what the hell happened tonight. Just about going to a party, drinking cups and cups of spiked punch and then laughing over stupid things along with his friends.

He curses as his right foot slips from the tiled path that leads to his front door and painfully twists, making him surge forward to the garden. He fell face flat to the grass, his pointy nose curving even more upward and arms bending awkwardly.

“Are you going to enter or are you going to lie on the porch all day until the spiders crawl on you?” Someone asks Gerard.

In response Gerard untwists his arms and uses them to help him up, flashing his middle finger in the process in the direction of his brother’s voice, not once looking up. Mikey’s sigh is heard and Gerard is too wasted to feel shame.

“It‘s five am in the morning and you can barely remember your own name. Explain how you got back here without dying.” Mikey asks dryly. Gerard holds his left hand out, asking for help and Mikey rolls his eyes but takes it.

“Ray mm ought meh.” Gerard mumbles, his eyes closes shut and depending on Mikey to lead him to his room.

“Tell me he wasn‘t stoned.” Mikey mutters, because he knows Ray doesn’t drink. But he gets as high as often as he breathes.

“Dunno.”

Mikey closes his eyes for a brief moment and takes a deep breath in order to not blow up on his older sibling, “All you had to check,” He begins frighteningly composed, “Was if Ray was playing hide-and-seek under the couch again with Bob, Gee.”

“Th’nk not.” Gerard slurs and continues to bury his face in Michael’s neck.

“Gerard,” Mikey says with a tone that screams ‘I’m-fucking-getting-tired-of-this’, and Gerard hums to say he’s listening as they cross up the stairs of their home, careful not to wake up their mother, “You _do_ realize you have no shirt on, right?”

Gerard grimly opens his eyes and tilts his head as he looks down, expecting to find his black t-shirt covering his stomach but only to find pure pale skin over his body. And _no wonder_ Gerard was freezing since Ray started driving him back.

“Where did you leave it.” Mikey says, more stating that actually asking. He seems far from snapping at him but, that just about being worse, makes Gerard grimace at the silent threat in his tone. In spite of Gerard’s drowsy sight he catches Mikey’s glare.

“Lookit ‘morrow.” Gerard mumbles, stumbling for his words and the moment Mikey shoves him onto his bed, his eyes close once more and his mind shuts off.

He dreams of hazel green eyes and monkey-eating unicorns with deadly laser eyes. Gerard makes a mental note to draw one soon.

X~X~X

The next morning Gerard wakes up with a hangover that seems to want to kill him. The fact that his curtains are open don’t help the matter. The sunlight that’s seeping in makes him groan and flop his heavy bed covers over his head.

“I take it you drank much more that you were supposed to.”

Gerard mutters something out incoherently but he figures Mikey understands because he responds with a short, “Right.”

Gerard curses loudly as the covers are jerked from the top of his head and his eyes burn with light, while his head pounds.

“Fucking hell! What the fuck, Mikey!” He bellows and barely manages to glare.

Mikey rolls his eyes and holds out to him a cup of orange juice with a small capsule. “Here,” He says, “This‘ll help.”

Gerard squints up at him and manages to reach for the cup without missing. He mumbles a low and very grateful ‘Thanks, Mikes’ and smiles softly at him. Mikey doesn’t smile back, with one grave look he leaves.

Gerard ignores his whole family for the rest of Saturday. Its isn’t very much hard. Mikey is already mad at him for over-drinking once more. His father is at work. And his mother’s probably smoking outside while watering the plants.

Gerard is seated in his desk and begins drawing the monkey-eating unicorns with laser eyes on his notebook, his back hunched and his eyes transfixed on the paper with the hot lamp hovering over his head. He doesn’t sleep that night either.

X~X~X

Gerard groans as he feels something soft smash against his head and squints through the sunlight to see it was a pillow. He pulls his bed covers over his face and squeezes his eyes closed. Unknown hands grip the edge of the mattress and soon Gerard is tumbling to the floor.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Comes Mikey’s disinterested tone, “We‘ve got class to get to.”

“But it‘s _Sunday_!” Gerard complains and buries his face into the soft carpet on the floor. Mikey rolls his eyes and kicks his brother’s side.

“Maybe, but we still have to go to school.”

“Why.” Gerard mumbles.

“Because we applied to extra classes,” Mikey reminds him with a sigh, “I don‘t know if you remember, Gee, but you‘ve been begging me for the past month to submit an application with you. This is our first lesson and you‘ve got Art while I‘m stuck in Music.”

“I don‘t want to go.”

“Yes, you do. I‘ll be eating breakfast downstairs. If you aren‘t ready in fifteen minutes I‘m forgetting you and you‘re walking.” Mikey leaves.

Gerard sighs at the sudden silence and doesn’t bother to climb up onto the bed. Just seconds before he’s back to sleep his minds floods with memories of last week and his eyes snap open.

“ _Shit!_ ” He curses loudly.

He finally managed to get the information to sink into his dull head that he’s got Art with Ms. Dalton. He’d hate to disappoint her by not showing up to her extra class. After all, he’s her favorite student. Says he has an abnormal gift for sketching or some shit like that. He had stopped listening to her rants on his talent after her seventh time repeating the fact that he‘s ‘a true artist’ over and over again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Gerard yells and jumps over his bed to get to his closet. He browses through his closet and throws things he doesn’t want out, wondering what’s appropriate to wear to school on a Sunday. It’s not as if many people are going. They rather stay at home sleeping. Gerard, honestly, does too but he always likes learning a new thing or two.

_“Five minutes!”_

“How the fuck do you want me to get ready in five fucking minutes!” Gerard hollers back, his tone of voice frustrated.

_“I warned you.”_

“Don‘t be fucking stupid, Mikey! You knew I would fucking take long to wake up!” He yells and tugs in his top drawer but it won‘t budge, “This little piece of shit just won‘t-”

 _“Gerard!”_ Mrs. Way shrieks, _“Careful with your language in this house!”_

“Sorry, ‘ma.” Gerard grumbles.

He quickly pulls his old shirt and soft pajama pants off. He shoves some baggy jeans up his legs and a black _‘Misfits'_  t-shirt over his head followed by a black hoodie.

_“I‘m leaving.”_

“Fuck, Mikey!” Gerard yells, “No! Mikey, wait up! Goddamn!” He shoots out of his room and as he sprints off the stairs his mother scowls at him for making too much noise. He briefly kisses her cheek and grabs a bagel before threatening Mikey to wait for him with ‘or-else’ reasons following after. Mikey, of course, is not scared and keeps on walking to the car.

Gerard yanks the passenger seat open and throws himself inside, his mouth full of chewed bagel. Mikey calmly climbs into the driver’s seat and glances at him. He turns back the to dashboard and turns on the car.

“Miracle,” Mikey deadpans, “You have no eyeliner on.”

Gerard’s eyes widen, he smudges his finger on his eyelids and brings it in front of his face.  
Seeing no black smear on his thumb, he groans. The tip of Mikey’s lips twitches.

X~X~X

“Gerard,” Ms. Dalton says politely with a small smile, “Would you like to suggest the topic of our next drawing project?”

Gerard blinks and looks up. “Huh?”

“You fucking heard her.” Another boy from the class -who‘s always grumpy-, Ryan, snaps. Gerard purses his lips and chooses to ignore Ross. Ms. Dalton is still waiting or an answer.

“Uh.” He begins, “A… portrait?”

He sounds -and probably looks- stupid and he quickly begins to come up with words at random and mixing them into a sentence. Anything that comes to mind at the moment is fine.

“Of, uh, someone we don‘t know. Like, just stalk and use the brief features we get from that same someone from watching a few minutes. Use imagination for the details we _don‘t_ get and- uh, try to make it seem like that person as much as possible?” The end of the sentence lifts up and is ends up sounding like a question. Ms. Dalton just smiles and from the corner of his eyes Gerard sees Ryan roll his eyes and go back to being a bitch (not that he ever stops, that is).

“Very good idea, Gerard! A very good one indeed!” The slim 50 year old teacher exclaims, and gives Gerard a slight grin. Ross imitates her behind her back, moving his head side to side and exaggeratedly mouthing her same words, whispering in a high voice.

Gerard glares at him, gives him the finger. Ryan just snorts and mutters under his breath, “Teacher‘s pet.”

Gerard can never get how Ryan Ross’ friends tolerate him, or how he has friends at all. Must be the fact Gabe Saporta and Bill Beckett are as obnoxious and rude as the devil himself.

Ms. Dalton proceeds to give details on the assignment, which apparently is Gerard’s idea. He kind of hates himself for giving the whole master idea. He isn’t exactly enthusiastic with the idea of spying on a complete stranger and having that random person’s face in his notebook. But well, who’s to blame?

Half an hour passes by and Gerard notices there’s someone he’s never seen in his life behind one of the easels, sitting on a stool. Gerard sees a flash of dark hair and a lip ring. He shrugs. Must be a new kid.

He goes back to painting a his villain he invented in Physics class with huge claws and ignores the way that one girl -Jamia is her name- stares at him from the other side of the room in that way that only says ‘fuck me’.

He fucking hates her.

Gerard‘s a loser. Has only friends who bear his wide and unrestrained imagination. Has long greasy black hair probably only Steven Tyler could pull off. And is a fucking artsy outcast. Jamia so fucking stupid, even a fucking dim-witted person like her could _(should)_ see he isn’t worth it.

He curses his hair when it dips into his eyes and stings and settles for furiously shaking his head until if moves away. Damn him and his extensive hair. Though he wouldn’t wear it in a ponytail. Hell no. His hair isn’t even that long. And, it’d look so fucking weird.

Who wears it in a ponytail in this century? It’s old school and even though he hates trying to look good (he never does that anyway) he at least _tries_ to remember in what year he lives in. Then, of course, it’s only in the 70’s and 80’s where guys could pull it all off.

Gerard realizes what he’s been debating in his head and groans quietly, setting down his paintbrush from drawing the corpse at Dr. Darwin’s feet. He eyes close for a brief second and he sighs loudly.

“God, I am such a girl.” Gerard breathes.

“You said it.” Ryan calls, eyes still on his painting.

X~X~X

“Why! It’s Mikeyway and his partner in crime!” Pete yells with his arms sprayed in the air, standing up from the cafeteria table they usually sit in. Gerard scowls.

“Shut the fuck _up_ , Peter.” He snaps. Pete’s grin doesn’t falter, actually it gets bigger. Gerard doesn’t know how that is even possible.

“Well, Gerard, I didn‘t know it was _that_ part of the month!” He says with his eyebrows arched upward. Gerard flashes him the middle finger and grimaces as Pete goes to throw himself on Mikey. If there’s something Gerard does _not_ want to witness, it’s his brother’s love life.

It all comes up to one thing. Mikey _finally_ accepting to go on a date with Pete. But, well, that doesn’t seem to be happening soon. It’s enough Gerard has to deal with Ryan Ross making gooey eyes at Gerard’s friend, Brendon. It’s fucking disgusting with all this love shit.

“I really need to get some new friends.” He mutters, then dumps his backpack on the ground.

“I really hope that isn‘t meatloaf,” Mikey says dryly as Ray drops his lunch tray on the table, “I‘m pretty sure I saw something moving in it.”

Gerard grimaces and stands up, grabs his backpack once more, and exits the cafeteria. No one acknowledges him. They are used to this behavior by now.

As Gerard walks through the hallway alone (deciding on staying in the art classroom for lunch _again_ ), head ducked down and right hand gripping on his backpack strap tightly, he feels a shoulder bump against his. He ignores it and moves to keep on walking since it’s probably one of those jocks who like picking on him.

But then he hears a, “I‘m so sorry!” from behind him and he turns around, confused. Not even sure if it was meant to be for him. Or maybe it was cocky sarcasm the cheerleader squad likes to use on him.

There stands the dark-haired boy from his Art class on Sunday with the lip piercing with a genuine expression of fear and apology. But as soon as he sees Gerard’s face his eyes widen and he ducks his head before scurrying off without another word. Weird.

Is Gerard’s face really _that_ horrible?

Then Gerard’s eyes widened as he noticed the boy’s shirt because _what the hell?!_ , “Hey, dude! Isn‘t that my t-shirt? Hey, kid!”

Alright, so the boy doesn’t look _that_ young to be called ‘kid’ but he’s short as fuck so-

The dude doesn’t turn around, instead jogging towards the doors faster and Gerard doesn’t even get an answer on why the fuck the dude has Gerard’s shirt he lost at that one party he got extremely drunk at.

Gerard sighs and decides to hunt the boy down later.

X~X~X

In English class Gerard decides Ray is weird.

Well, the giant fro on two legs has always been weird but now, even more in particular. He’s barely been able to meet Gerard’s eyes before quickly looking away and asking about Friday night’s party. Gerard just shrugs and keeps telling him he barely remembers anything but more and more shots of alcohol invested drinks.

He doesn’t mention the green eyes he keeps thinking of because, come on, what’s the point?

Ray just nods and hums distractedly. Gerard catches him glancing at the t-shirt stealing dude in the back of the classroom. Mrs. Mears notices the boy is new and forces him to introduce himself to the whole class. If it weren’t for the fact he is wearing Gerard’s black shirt, Gerard would feel bad for him.

“Frank Iero.” He says to the class, quietly but with a soft smile.

“Please, Mr. Iero, there has to be more of you than just your name.” Mrs. Mears says. Frank glances at her and purses his lips.

“Uh, I‘m a fan of Doom Patrol and Misfits…?” His voice makes it sound like a question.

Gerard concludes that if it weren’t for the fact that _Frank_ is wearing his shirt he’d fall in love with him right there that moment.

_Fucking Doom Patrol and Misfits._

Ray grimaces and refuses to look at Gerard.

X~X~X

In Art Ms. Dalton lets her class start the project she had left for them, making them think of someone they saw in the street the day before (how is that possible?!). Gerard decides to draw the last thing he remembers before his black-out.

Ms. Dalton comments on the eyes he has so far drawn in light pencil and Ryan makes a smart ass comment on how they aren’t supposed to start on facial features.

“It‘s not _my_ fault you have Brendon‘s every fucking detail memorized and you find it easy to draw him.” Gerard had snapped back. Ryan turned away but not before Gerard caught sight of his flaming cheeks.

“It‘s not true.” Was Ryan’s useless excuse, mumbled and under his breath.

Gerard saw Frank snigger from aside of Jamia.

What the hell, the kid still stole Gerard’s shirt. Gerard did _not_ stare at Frank’s smile.

X~X~X

Frank’s not half as bad.

At lunch Ray’s talking to him on their table and Gerard walks to them, wonders what the kid’s doing at their table. When Gerard asks just that. Ray tenses at the harsh words but Gerard shrugs him off. Gerard’s always been like this. Why feel shocked now?

“Uh, Frank Iero, Gerard Way.” Ray mutters. Gerard blinks and really, _truly_ , wonders why Ray is acting so weird right now. Frank smiles slightly but it seems forced.

“Hi, Gerard.” He says. Gerard frowns at him and gives a curt nod.

“Hey.”

Later Mikey arrives with Pete pestering him (like always) and they sit down. Frank doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. And Gerard promised Bob he’d stay here to eat his lunch at the table this side. He has no way out and he’s containing himself from yelling at Frank to go to his house, grab the shirt that belongs to Gerard (whom he hasn‘t brought to school since after the incident in the hallway), and threaten him.

Then Frank, who is talking to Mikey, mentions Grant Morrison. Gerard’s immediate response is turning around and “Huh?!”ing. Frank turns to him, a bit confused.

“What?” He asks. Mikey rolls his eyes and explains to Frank (after batting away Pete snooping hands) that Gerard has been trying to get to meet Grant ever since he knew he existed (which translates into a very long time). Frank’s eyes widen and he turns his eyes to Gerard, the hazel green full of adoration.

Gerard immediately launches to explain that he’s been a fan for a long time and has every Doom Patrol issue known to man and Frank eagerly nods and gives his opinion here an there. Interrupts when he thinks Gerard’s point of view is stupid. Gerard won’t even admit to himself he sort of almost falls in love with Frank already.

“No, but-”

“After he went inside-”

“I think he should have-”

“And you are wrong because Grant-”

“But in issue-”

It’s sort of awesome that Mikey’s brother has someone to understand him better in these type of things. Mikey finds it a bit freaky how they don’t even finish their sentences but understand each other completely.

By the end Gerard is waving his arms around like crazy while explaining something and Frank is yelling at him, seeming to debate over something. Mikey rolls his eyes and grabs his backpack before standing up, seconds before the bell rings. Gerard gets up as well with Frank, never taking their eyes off each other or stopping to breath as they argue.

They walk to class together and Mikey closes his eyes and shakes his head. Aside of him, Bob grumbles something about shutting the geeks up, and Pete just looks like today is the best day of his life. Nothing new.

When Mikey looks back, he sees Gerard’s jaw slack, eyes transfixed on Frank and seeming to memorize his every word Frank says and all Mikey does is sigh. Because, Yes. Gerard Way is sold.

X~X~X

The project of Art class has been going well. Gerard doesn’t really _know_ who he’s painting. There just an image implanted in his brain that won’t go away. When Gerard paints his eyes glaze over, eyes open but not really seeing.

His hand works alone and he doesn’t stop to see what he’s drawn so far. It’d ruin his inspiration. Then Mikey would pass by, stare at his painting and roll his eyes before walking away. While Gerard doesn’t have a fucking idea of what he’s doing, his younger brother seems to know exactly who he’s drawing.

X~X~X

Ray doesn’t even sit with them anymore at lunch. Doesn’t even look at Gerard. Only in the hallways as they pass, nods exchanged. But sometimes Ray even pretends not to notice Gerard.

Gerard is going crazy.

He will be honest. He misses Ray, whom he’s been friends with ever since the third grade when Gerard dropped a whole bottle of blue paint onto his lap. Now, Ray doesn’t even seem to care about all they’ve been through (with Mikey, of course).

Frank is acting in guard as well. He seems to be careful with his words, much like how Ray started out before flat-out ignoring him. Frank still laughs, jokes around and curses when he loses playing a video game at Gerard’s house but he’s just too cautious. Gerard wants to know the real Frank.

And about their relationship, well, Gerard sort of absolutely loves Frank. They like the same movies, same books, same comics (though argue over the best superheroes), and they get the same jokes. Frank’s a short little fucker, sure. But his ego’s so fucking huge it’s sometimes overwhelming.

The stolen t-shirt is completely forgotten. Though Frank blushed when Gerard started talking about a band t-shirt he’s been trying to buy for over a month by internet before they’re sold out.

“So, why‘d you move here to Chicago?” Gerard asks over the staring at the pizza, trying to find the biggest piece while comparing. Frank shrugs, grabs three slices of the cheese pizza and plops them on his plate.

“My parents divorced. I came to live here with my dad.” He responds with a casual shrug. Gerard hums.

“So, you know more people here besides me? ‘Cause, you know, no offense Frank but you‘re always the fuck alone.” He replies without even a glance. He finally picks the piece which seems to have the most cheese.

Frank coughs a bit and Gerard sort of has a feeling it‘s not because he‘s getting sick or a piece of pizza got caught in his throat. “I- uh- met a couple of people in a party the day I got here.”

Gerard’s eyes lighten up. “What party?”

Frank squirms under his gaze. “Friday.”

“Awesome, dude!” Gerard yells with a grin, “You were also there?”

Frank rubs the back of his neck and after cleaning it in a napkin and swallows, not daring to look Gerard in the eye. He grabs his plate from the coffee table and takes a little bite, chewing carefully. He nods.

“Did you like it? It was kick-ass, don‘t you think?” Gerard continues, because he absolutely loves free booze and drugs. Frank shrugs and takes his time in chewing, swallowing with the same pace.

“For many reasons it was my best and worst day of my life.” He mutters, still eyes not meeting Gerard’s. Gerard ignores the fact and chooses not to comment. Instead, his eyebrows furrow and he frowns.

“Why?”

“I- uh,” Frank coughs again and shifts in his spot, playing with the bread by taking the stuffy soft yellow stuff out of it and setting it aside, “Had sex with someone.”

Gerard laughs and snorts. He ends with a huge grin. “Dude, _dude._ You got some action and yet you consider it one of your worst days ever? Was it _that_ bad?” He laughs some more. Frank shakes his head at his now deformed pizza slice.

“It wasn‘t bad,” Frank says gently (in that cautious tone Gerard truly fucking hates), “But I don‘t think that person even liked me. I woke up to be alone.”

Gerard frowns. “A one-night stand? Shit, that sucks. I love the sex, but one-night stands kind of suck. That’s why a friend with benefits is fucking better. No real relationship, just sex. You know? But really, Who would ever leave you?” He winks in attempt to cheer Frank up, “Frank, you‘re sexy as hell.”

Frank smiles sadly. “Thanks… I guess.”

X~X~X

That night Gerard wakes up at 3 am in the morning sweating endlessly and the white sheets sticking to his skin. Images of his dream flash across his eyes. Moans, white legs, inked hips, a scorpion tattoo on the neck he sucked on. Messed sheets, gazed eyes, loud music from what seems to be downstairs.

Gerard’s breath hitches. Slowly, he gets out of bed and quietly goes down the stairs barefoot.

Frank, Frank and Gerard’s stolen t-shirt, Gerard going home without a t-shirt.

He finally vaguely remembers a stoned Ray stumbling into the room where Gerard still lied next to a sleeping naked body, arm across his chest and the other person’s leg around his waist. Ray yelling at him to put on his fucking jeans and boxers on to go. Gerard never putting his t-shirt on.

Leaving Frank alone.

When Gerard squints through the darkness of the living room and his eyes land on his painting, he finally focuses at the details of what he’s drawn by now. As he studies the details in the dark for a long time, his eyes widen and he backs away.

Those _eyes._

Gerard bites his bottom lip and lets a shaky breath out. Frank’s innocent eyes and his lips curled into a smile stare back at him.

_Fuck._

X~X~X

Ray’s walking alone through the crowded hallway alone and he glances up to see where he’s going. When he catches Gerard’s eye his eyes widen and his brown curly hair move to cover view as Ray quickly turns on his heel and starts for the opposite way.

No fucking crap. Gerard’s not having that shit again.

He quickly glides through the masses of people and pushes Ray against the lockers. “Now that I‘ve got you cornered,” Gerard hisses through clenched teeth as he towers over Ray, who staring back with wide eyes full of fear, “Tell me, Raymond.”

Ray stands his ground.

“Yes?” He mutters, waiting for any sign of escape to appear. None come and people pass by as if they can’t even see Ray being assaulted by the big emo kid everyone has been avoiding for years.

“Is it all it?” Gerard starts, whispers menacingly under his breath, “Was it because of Friday? Just because I fucked Frank and left him, your Catholic good boy side decided to stop talking to me? You fucking felt bad for what happened to Frank and avoided the molester. Is that it? Huh, Ray?”

Ray stares back, never cowering back. His fists clench at his sides and he doesn’t move. Bursts of air enter and exit his nose is sharp takes, his lips slowly moving and forming a scowl. He puts his hands on Gerard’s chest and pushes, sending the younger boy stumbling back.

“What, Ray?” Gerard says in response to Ray’s actions again, because he’s so fucking stubborn, “You got mad for something as stupid as shit? I fucked him, I left him, big deal. We‘ve all has one-night stands. And once in our lifetime we‘re the ones causing it to be.”

Ray clenches his jaw even tighter as Gerard spits this to his face.

“You fucked Frank, Gerard. Think about it the way I see it. Frank, the kid who still watches Spongebob and only wants connection. Don‘t you think your arrogance is getting a bit too far?” Ray sighed irritated and a bitter smile formed on his lips, “You can‘t even see stuff in any other way that isn‘t centered around yourself! Sex isn‘t always just about fucking, for some people it _means_ something. You know why I‘m his friend? I‘m the only one that fucking knows it was you and he seemed devastated.”

Gerard rolls his eyes. “For fucking Pete‘s Sake, Toro. Can you hear yourself? You‘ve gone insane. It was just sex! For the both of us. Frank and I.”

Ray suddenly seems to stop being a ticking bomb to an exploding balloon. Those words seem to piss Ray off even more and he grabs the front of Gerard’s shirt. His breath fans Gerard face and they glare at one another.

“It wasn‘t just sex to Frank, Gerard. He was a fucking _virgin_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work but here it is.

Mikey's starting to get truly annoyed. He's been staring at his Physics sheet for three hours now and he can't even write down his name on the top of the paper. The tapping is becoming unbearable and Mikey grips his pen tighter. His nails are digging into his palm.

"Stop it." He snaps. The tapping stops for a moment, before starting up again faster. The beating echoes along the walls straight towards Mikey's left ear.

After taking a shaky breath, Mikey closes his eyes for a second to open them again. He stares at the wall of the dining room and clenches his jaw. The tapping mocks his hearing and it takes every forte in himself not to attack. His phone flashes with _5:25_ and it isn't a surprise when he turns around to see Gerard staring at his painting of Frank, tapping on the easel with his thin paintbrush.

"I have _homework_ to do." Mikey says with a sigh. He's only seen Gerard with that expression once, when Barbara left for vacation and called it offs. And it didn't turn out well. Mikey still remembers having to hold his older brother while he cried in the basement. Not a pretty sight. And Gerard was only twelve at the time.

Now Mikey is just dreading. Dreading for the moment Gerard will snap and cry _harder_ that usual for not losing one, but two friends on one go.

"I know." Gerard responds in monotone. His eyes trace Frank's every feature. His painting has been finished for two weeks now.

"I would appreciate it if you let me finish it." Mikey replies solemnly. Gerard blinks and stares at Frank's lips for a couple seconds, flashbacks of those same lips tracing his hipbones that one night he did not remember before, blocking his sight.

"What's stopping you." He mumbles.

Mikey's eyes narrow and he slowly moves around Gerard's sitting form on the living room leather couch. He slowly moves in front of Gerard, blocking the painting. Gerard doesn't even blink.

Stretching towards the loveseat, Mikey grabs hold on the soft blue pillow, moves rapidly and hurls it Gerard's way. Gerard snaps his head up and glares.

"What the fuck, Mikey!" He yells. Mikey snorts and walks back to his seat on the dining room table, plops into the seat and grabs his black pen.

"You're fucked up." He says. Just as he starts to right the _M_ on the top the pen is taken out of his hand and soon the sound of plastic hitting the wall sounds familiar.

Mikey swirls around and glares at his older brother, who's staring at him challengingly. "What the fuck!" Mikey yells, throwing his hands in the air. It's only times like this where Mikey looses his composure.

"Did you know?" Gerard says all of the sudden. Mikey's eyebrows relax and pull down once more, but in confusion.

"Huh?" He manages.

"Did you _know?_ " Gerard repeats, accusingly still glowering down at the seated blonde. Mikey's eyes slightly widen in realization and so he stands in front of him on his feet, sizes to Gerard's level.

"Of course not! Why would I keep something like that from you? Sure, it's your fight to win but I wouldn't _do_ that to you."

Gerard blinks a couple of times and then comprehension hits him on the back of his head, making him feel dizzy for a second. Did he just accuse his brother? Gerard shakes his head and sighs, holds the bridge of his nose between his finger and wonders what the hell has become of him. He asks just this aloud.

Mikey shrugs. "You've been passing through some rough times, Gee. It's only logical you haven't been able to feel grounded every since Grandma left."

Gerard flinches, because he still isn't used to anyone mentioning Elena so nonchalantly. But yet, it's no surprise coming from Mikey, who is so blunt and doesn't knowledge the fact that now when they want to visit their Nana they have to cross a gate that says _New Jersey Cemetery_.

"Ray hates me. Frank surely won't talk to me again." Gerard mutters, lowers his head so his chin is touching his chest. Mikey sighs.

"Maybe they won't talk to you in a long time," Mikey starts, and Gerard feels worse because this isn't making him any better, "But only if you don't try to fix it. Ray doesn't hate you, though. After having so many years being friends, all ruined with one simple mistake? Sure, he's good friend of Frank, but even Frank himself doesn't have the heart to ignore you."

Gerard looks up and is surprised when he sees Mikey's head on his shoulder. His brother wraps his thin arms around Gerard's middle and squeezes. Gerard buries his face into Mikey's neck, and for the first time in six years, he cries.

~.~.~

"Maybe," Bob starts, "It could have been buried really fucking deep on Lothlórien. No one would have found it."

Gerard rolls his eyes and briefly looks up to stare at Bob, who's busy trying to rip open a damn bag of Doritos. He sees a blur, since his position of his cheek resting on his hand while it's on the lunch table makes his see pink.

"Keeps calling Sauron, and they could easily dig it out." He replies in monotone. Bob frowns.

"But it's deep, dude. The cries can't be heard and besides, it's _Lothlórien_. They can't have it easily."

This time, Mikey rolls his eyes and steals one of Pete's French fries, who is ignored when he pouts in response. "Elven helpers, remember? He could have totally made it. And dirt doesn't make its call any lighter."

"What about with Gollum? The motherfucker didn't let anyone touch it and it was safe with him before." Bob continues, happily plops a chip into his mouth and hums in content when the cheesy sensation hits his taste buds.

As Ryan passes by he comments on Bob's porn star noises casually with his tray in his arms. Practically empty. Fucking anorexic flower boy. Ryan's friends, Gabe and William snigger and Bob just flips them off. Brendon looks up hopefully in Ryan's way. Ryan fleetingly smiles at him. The bleak kick Andy gives him on the shin under the table makes Brendon look away abruptly.

"Technically, Gollum lived underground before all the commotion about Sauron appeared. They would have found the Ring and killed him either way. Especially if Sméagol kept wearing it." This time it's Brendon that responds for them, mouth full of a churro he'd bought from Cosco the day before. Bob lets out a noise of frustration and everyone's surprised he hasn't slammed his fist on the table yet. Maybe Bob's patience _is_ getting better after all.

Fat chance.

"All I'm trying to say," Bob starts, frustrated, "Is that there could have been _other_ fucking ways to get rid of the motherfucking ring instead of having to travel across Middle Earth."

Mikey snorts and decides to take another of Pete's fries blindly, bites it with his eyes on Bob as Pete watches hopelessly at his stolen fry.

"It's not that easy to take care of it." He replies. Bob frowns.

"Can't you just throw it in a river, lake or something?" He asks, "So after time it's bury into the dirt and no one would find it."

"No." Gerard says shortly.

Brendon grins and bounces in his seat as he gazes at Bob, who's still enjoying his Doritos (which are now completely showered in salsa). "That's how Sméagol found it in the first place."

Bob grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like 'Fucking geeks' but no one comments. Because with Bob it's never good to comment. Suddenly though his eyes catch on something behind Gerard, Mikey and Brendon's side of the table. He blinks once and uninterestedly turns down to stare at Gerard.

"Get ready." He counters.

Gerard doesn't have time to process it and is about to answer with a stupid 'Huh?' when, "Hi."

It's Frank. Gerard doesn't turn around, just freezes. Mikey glances up and sees Frank with his tray squeezed in his hands, eyes cast on the ground. Mikey sighs as he sees his older brother in a similar position. Eyes on the floor, hands under thighs.

Bob pats the empty chair to his right, in front of Mikey and Frank smiles weakly, glances at Mikey and Gerard for approval. Mikey shrugs and Gerard's doesn't even notice, still too busy burning holes into the linoleum.

Frank cautiously sits down and stares at his lap. Everyone stays quiet and have nothing to say at all. Everything from their mind from before disappears and everyone wishes they could come up with something to make everything less awkward.

"What about the elves?" Bob continues coolly, "It'd be a fair fight. Elves against elves and an evil spirit."

Gerard doesn't even get to ask himself where Ray is.

~.~.~

Gerard's chewing gum when he walks back into the Way household, house keys dangling between his fingers. The sound of squishing rings throughout the room obnoxiously, Gerard's mouth wide chewing.

"Mikey, I'm ordering pizza." He calls from the kitchen, dialing the familiar _'Francachela'_ number. There's shuffling coming from the living room and Gerard finally notices the distant sound of guns, meaning Mikey's playing Xbox again.

"Get a vegetarian." Mikey yells back, voice making Gerard wince at his younger brother's yell over the gunshots.

Gerard's eyebrow raises and his mouth twists in confusion. "Vegetarian? What the fuck, since when do you want to be a motherfucking vegetarian?"

"'S not for me." Mikey replies, followed by the sound of someone from the game crying in pain.

Gerard looks more than a little confused, leans on one foot and contemplates asking before reminding himself who he'd be asking and realizing Mikey's answers never gives his doubts closure.

He skims around the island of the kitchen, grabs a banana and peels it. He waits until he's stepped behind the couch to take a bite. The first thing he notices it a ball of black hair besides his brother's blonde one. Gerard's surprised, to say at least, so to express this sentiment he says Frank's name in confusion, or tries to anyway.

It comes out more like, "Mramnf?"

In response turns around, sees Gerard and tenses. Gerard can see Frank's trying to calm down when the younger boy smiles unsurely. Gerard doesn't smile back, because honestly Gerard forgot _how_ to. At that moment Gerard pretty much forgot to do anything, really.

"I wanted someone to play videogames with," Mikey starts without turning around, taking advantage of Frank's distraction, "And you were too focused on sulking and staring at your painting, so I invited Frank over."

Mikey doesn't say he's sorry, or give Gerard a reassuring smile even. He doesn't use his telepathic powers, to send an apology of sorts, Gerard and him swore they had when they were in the second grade. He doesn't even glance at him. Instead, he lets his fingers slide expertly over the glowing controller that cost Gerard a fortune and slices Frank's head off.

"Painting?" Frank asks and looks confused, wondering how he didn't know Gerard painted. He knows Gerard is in _Art_ but there can be a difference.

"Yeah, Gerard's in art, as you probably know, and draws like a motherfucker. Want to see it?" Mikey asks, completely ignoring the fact that Frank's forgotten about his controller and isn't fighting back, fingers lying lazily over the colorful buttons.

" _Mikey._ " Gerard hisses. Mikey ignores him and pauses the game to stare at Frank, who seems to be staring with wide eyes at the wall behind Gerard.

"Painting?" Frank repeats. Mikey shrugs.

"You want to see it or not?"

Frank looks up and stares into Gerard's eyes, making the other boy freeze for a long moment. Frank's eyes question and Gerard finally sighs.

"If you want to." He mumbles. Frank seems nervous, biting on his bottom lip and nods, gets up from the couch. He seems curious enough, Gerard thinks, but I guess we both know it'd be a good moment to talk. He can't run forever.

Gerard leads the way and Mikey stays on the couch, concentrated on changing the game to Mortal Kombat, trying out the fatalities he's practiced a million times already.

"Uh, over here." Gerard says while tilting his head towards his bedroom door. Frank nods, already have been in Gerard's room a bunch of times before to watch the best gore movies.

"So-" Frank starts awkwardly.

"I don't know if you'll like it," Gerard interrupts quickly, "I tried to make each detail exactly how it is but I'm sure it came out like a fail. Sorry if you feel offended or something, but you know, I tried." Now Gerard's the one that seems even more anxious. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other and stares into the ground.

"I don't get it," Frank replies slowly, "Why would it matter what I think and why would I feel offended?"

Gerard lets out a puff of air and points to the easel in the corner. Frank starts walking towards it and sneaks a glance at him before turning it around. Setting his eyes over the masterpiece in front of him, his breath catches him in his throat.

"Yeah, uh, sorry." Gerard says softly, almost like a whisper.

Frank looks up. "You did this?"

Gerard nods, eyes worried. Frank eyes the painting once again and blinks in order to try to take it in.

"I- It's-" Frank is troubled to try to utter a simple sentence. A simple word, "Wow."

When Gerard doesn't respond he continues, "I just- Gee, you realize you're a huge artist?" Gerard softens up at the mention of the nickname, smiles only a bit, and so Frank gathers up the confidence to ask, "But- why me?"

Gerard opens his mouth, seems to have an answer prepared but closes it again. The action repeats itself a couple of times before he finally manages to respond.

"I don't know."

Frank deflates and frowns, seems to be disappointed. Gerard flinches at the sight and sees the difference between the laughing green eyes of the painting and the sad ones as the original.

"I mean, I know I'll repeat what you already know but I'll say it anyway. For Art I had to draw a stranger. One I see on the street, in school, anyone I don't talk to. With a few glances I'm supposed to memorize their features. Try to improvise with those I'm not sure of. So- the first time I saw you, Frank. Well, where I remembered you-" Frank cringes at these words and Gerard quickly replaces those words with words that just appear in front of his eyes and that don't give him time to realize what they are. So he just blurts out, "I dreamt of hazel eyes."

At this Frank look up, eyes wondering and curious. Gerard sighs in defeat and slowly sits on his bed. "I dreamt that they laughed, I saw their color and shadow perfectly. I dreamt of a scorpion tattoo soon after. Then I saw you in Art. I didn't see any link to your eyes with those because I didn't see what I was drawing. My hand did it, not me. My eyes were elsewhere. And then- I kept dreaming of a mysterious someone."

"And then?" Frank whispers. Gerard smiles sadly, full of despair.

"I dreamt of many other tattoos all over someone's body. Music flared in the background and I woke up with the word _'And'_ in front of my eyes." By this time Gerard's staring back into the ground, lips twitching at the memory of his lips tracing that same word.

"Do you regret it?"

Gerard chuckles darkly and shakes his head at the wooden floor. "No."

Gerard listens to the sound of footsteps moving, and is ready to hear the bedroom door opening and then slamming, instead realizing they aren't walking away. Frank isn't leaving yet, but Gerard thinks soon he will. The shadow that stops in front of him tells him otherwise.

Soon Frank is tilting his head down to take a look at Gerard's own face that is miserably trying to hide behind his long black bangs. Frank glances down and before Gerard's has time to process _anything_ that is going on, soft lips with cold metal press against his own.

He doesn't know what the fuck to do, just staring into Frank's closed eyes but before he lets Frank pull away he raises his hand to curl against the back of Frank's neck. His eyes are tight and he harshly kisses back, making the kiss not sweet or soft, but stark and full of desire. Gerard should feel embarrassed that he's already got a boner, but considering Frank's hard-on presses on his thigh he smiles.

Frank pulls back and breathes onto his face, stares into Gerard's eyes, who is breathless as well.

"You don't regret it." He states. Gerard smiles slyly.

"I suppose you don't either."

"I didn't think you'd care."

"I didn't think you'd not hate me."

Frank smiles and Gerard's pocket vibrates. Gerard sighs and takes his cellphone out, sees _'Mikey'_ flashing in black. Gerard is confused on why'd he call and not just walk in.

_Going to Pete's house to watch some movies. Text me when you and Frankie are finished. Don't forget to wash your bed covers._

Frank sees the message and grins after seeing Gerard's uncomfortable reaction at his brother's antics to just _know fucking everything_. He grabs Gerard's cellphone and throws it on the floor. Before Gerard could protest he has Gerard's legs press against the bed, pushes him and so then when Frank falls on top of him Gerard mouths at his neck, uses his tongue to guide him around the form of the scorpion. Frank moans and presses his erection against Gerard, rocks back and forth with sharp takes of air.

By the time Frank's on his knees, pulls on Gerard's pants without breaking eye contact, Gerard is gone.

**~.~.~**

For graduation Gerard is annoyed by Linda as she takes about a million photos of him holding Frank's hand, who grins happily at the camera. Mikey rolls his eyes but doesn't stop Pete from kissing his cheek as Linda smiles.

As they dance in the gym chamber half an hour later (which has been transformed into a whole ball scene full of pastel ballons) Gerard catches Ray's eyes across the room, and for the first time ever since the incident, Ray smiles.


End file.
